


voted most likely to run away with you

by cjones7



Series: Riverdale Daemon AU [3]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Angst flavored fluff, Bad Parent Alice Cooper (Archie Comics), Daemon Touching, F/M, Fun with Worldbuilding, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Repression, Sexual Tension, implied emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:01:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21884167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjones7/pseuds/cjones7
Summary: It's not exactly proper to date someone who's daemon is the natural prey of your own, but Betty knows full well Jughead Jones has never cared about propriety.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Series: Riverdale Daemon AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1568026
Comments: 11
Kudos: 66
Collections: 6th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	voted most likely to run away with you

**Author's Note:**

> It's a song fic _and _a daemon au! A two in one deal!__

It’s not exactly polite, not exactly seemly, not exactly _proper_ , to date someone who’s daemon is the natural prey of your own, Alice reminds Betty, somewhere between Tamryn settling as a wolverine and noticing Betty was hanging around much more with Jughead Jones. She didn’t _stop_ after Betty (in attempt to channel the seething wildness inside her that she can no longer hide) glances at her father’s daemon and asks if a big enough eagle can eat a fox; but she doesn’t threaten a slap either; and that is a win in it’s own right.

Betty knows full well Jughead Jones doesn’t care about propriety. Tamryn (in private, voicing thoughts she won’t, can’t) admits that’s part of the appeal. Jughead Jones walks the halls with his little rat daemon perched on his shoulder, daring anyone to say something, to give them a look. Betty’s done enough research to know no symbol is clear cut; that meanings double and triple over in a loop, that sometimes that’s the point. Betty knows enough to know that the stereotype of rodent daemons signifying timidity and shiftiness isn’t true, and knows enough to know that turning a traditional symbol of shyness and trickery into a person symbol of defiance is impressive all the same.

People say they don’t judge you based on the shape of your daemon but Betty thinks it is ridiculous to pretend no one cares about the shape of your soul. She notices how people give her a wide berth when it’s obvious Tamryn has settled. Because it is one thing to settle as a beautiful predator (her mother’s sleek fox, her father’s shining eagle, Veronica’s lovely clouded leopard), and quite another thing to settle as something built for the fight, for the hunt, for the cracking of bones and the spilling of blood. Betty sits alone at lunch, that day.

Or, Betty attempts to sit alone at lunch that day. Jughead sits down across from her, clattering his tray, as he always has lately. And before Betty can attempt to say (in a way she hopes isn’t snappish but is afraid cannot sound anything but) that she does not want to talk about their investigation today, his little Ella scampers up to her hand and says in a voice small but clear,

“We thought we’d welcome you to the club, then.”

Betty tries to hide her discomfort, knows; two truths held at the same time, both that one’s daemon is not supposed to address another human, and that Jughead and Ella seem to base their trust on people’s reactions to their carefully calculated flouting of rules her mother promises are there to keep her safe, safe, safe. So she answers, making sure to address Ella, not Jughead:

“What club do you mean?”

A rat cannot roll its eyes (though Jughead can, and does), so Ella flicks her tail instead, saying “What club do you think?” And Jughead, finishing her sentence:

“The _untrustworthy daemons_ club, Betty Cooper.” And he smirks, and steals one of her fries. She growls a little, in the back of her throat, not thinking, and surprises herself. Jughead laughs, delighted.

“Come on. I love Archie as much as you do but we both know a golden retriever is not exactly what you need right now. Far as I see it you’ve got two options. Alienate yourself from your purest soul so completely you can’t see yourself in its shape or, embrace it. Define yourself only for yourself. We chose the second. Thought we’d offer you an option besides being avoided by the cheer squad in the halls forever.” Jughead tells her.

Betty doesn’t know how to respond, she truly doesn’t, so she invites him out to a movie, instead.

A parade of dates then, images flashing before Betty’s eyes, throwing firecrackers down into the quarry, watching to see if it fizzles in the long fall or drowns in the dark waters. Driving a motorcycle too fast down dark roads. Breaking into mourges. Tracking down Polly. Tracking down a murderer. A kiss in her bedroom. In none of the still footage of Betty’s memory does she feel compelled to hide her daemon, her claws, herself.

She can’t help but wonder, though, and to worry, and so, one day, with evidence scattered all around Betty’s bedroom floor, she asks:

“Does it bother you?”

“Does what bother us?” Ella answers for Jughead, who is lost in thought, staring at a still from a security camera.

“Well--I mean--” Betty starts, and Tamryn, still getting the hang of talking for her, still finding it much easier with another daemon than right to Jughead:

“Wolverines eat rats, sometimes.”

At that, Jughead does lift his head up, and laughs, delighted, real joy in his eyes.

“ _Does it bother me_?” He says, almost choked with laughter, “ _Betty, I promise you, it is the best thing in the fucking world_.” He must notice her skeptical look, and so he continues: “Betts come on, what could be sexier than the evolutionary arms race? Think about it, we’re evenly matched on opposite ends of an evolutionary arms race. You’re strength and _power_ , better and cleverer at tracking than a bloodhound and fearless and full of want and I am cunning and stealth and cleverer at hiding than any little moth and _fearless and full of want_ and I can’t think of anything better than spending a moment in your jaws before slipping through your teeth to start the chase anew.”

And at that, Ella jumps onto Betty’s exposed arm, and all the rules on touching another’s daemon flits through her mind “only family” and “lovers when you’re _older_ , Elizabeth” and “explicit permission but even then, better not” and “a possibly irresponsible level of intimacy” and thankfully Tamryn, (who has a clear head, somehow, has a clear head more and more now, even when Betty can’t) saunters right up to Jughead and nuzzles against him.

And at that, Betty can no longer ignore the rising heat in her, grabs Jughead roughly by the back of his neck and kisses him breathless. He pulls away, laughing again, joyful and wild, and this time she laughs too before pushing him on the bed and kissing him again, so they can burn together well into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Jughead/Betty is most fun when they're both deeply strange people what can I say.


End file.
